The Coffee Shop Life
by My Nightingale
Summary: just a cute little one shot. sirius is free, the 'incident' in the fifth book never happened, and remus owns a coffee shop. shonenai slash, boyxboy, whatever you want to call it SBRL


A/N: i refuse to admit the existence of the fifth book, so you will notice that siri is still alive and well. so there. deal with it.

It had been a long time since he had been outside. Before he had to hide, but not now. No, now he was free and loving it.

London was like his playground. He spent every free minute he had there having fun. He became a regular in the local bars, candy stores, and a certain bookstore. The book store was small and had a coffee shop inside. It wasn't as mainstream as some of the other shops in the area, but it had a loyal clientele.

When he pushed open the door everyone looked at him, but not like everyone else in the city did. They saw him as one of their own, not like a bloody killer. There weren't quite as many people who still thought he was a killer as there had been, say, a year ago when everybody still "knew" he was a killer. Thank gods for the Voldermont's cockiness, which brought about his own downfall and cleared the name of Sirius Black.

There was a man standing behind the counter. The owner. He was always there when Sirius came into the small shop. The owner smiled.

"Hey, stranger, want a drink?" was what he always said, even thought he knew Sirius better then anyone. Without waiting for an answer he set a cup of decaf coffee on the bar, not that he would ever tell Sirius that it was decaf. Sirius smiled and sipped the hot drink. The owner returned to work, there was no need for words between them.

Every once in awhile a real stranger would walk in, but no one would even look up. Most of them just left, though some liked the little shop and stayed. These were the people who became family.

A young man, who really is family, works with the owner. When Sirius had sat down the young man came over and sat beside Sirius.

"Hey, Remus, I'm gonna take my break now," he said to the owner, who nodded and smiled warmly. The young man turned to Sirius and began to talk of his day. Nothing much had happened, but that was good. Life for Harry had been hell ever since he was young. Until the summer of his fifth year at Hogwarts he always had to look ever his shoulder, whether it be for his adoring fans or the forces of evil. Now he had a chance to be a normal boy.

"And then the other night Ron and I went to a muggle club! They weren't going to let us in because they thought we were too young--"

"Which you are," Sirius said, amused.

"Well yeah, but they didn't have to know that. So we had to make a little seen to get them to let us in."

"What kind of seen?" Sirius asked.

"You don't want to know." Sirius took the hint. He knew very well how far Harry and Ron were willing to go to have some fun.

"You had better not tell Remus that," Sirius said, "he'll skin you alive." Harry laughed. When the customers began to leave Harry got back to work, getting ready to close shop. It happened like clockwork almost every day. People would begin to leave around seven. Sometimes Remus had a live band come in to play and the shop would stay opened all night, and then other times the shop didn't open at all. The latter happened once a month, without fail. Sirius helped to wash dishes. He could have used magic, but sometimes he enjoyed doing things the muggle way just for the hell of it. Harry would put some of the books back on the shelf, and Remus would take some of the left over coffee for himself. By senven thirty the shop was closed. The three men left, Harry going off on his own to find his friend who was renting a flat in the city. Sirius and Remus went their own way, back to their own flat, hand in hand.

Time in the small shop was different than it was in the outside world. One couldn't be quite sure how long they had been reading a book, or drinking a cup of espresso. It wasn't that time slower, or sped up, but there was no time in the shop. A clock hung on the wall, though it didn't mean anything, and there was a layer of dust covering it. Life there was simple. but the ones who lived by its rules were happy. Happy because they were together and free. The coffee shop life couldn't last forever, but it was good while it did.


End file.
